


Recovery Is a Joke

by defendt0pbunk



Series: I'm Glad We Got You Help [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self Harm, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defendt0pbunk/pseuds/defendt0pbunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean asks Cas for help and eventually gives therapy another try<br/>(This fic is postponed until further notice)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery Is a Joke

**Author's Note:**

> All of you that begged me for this, here it is! If you haven't read We're Gonna Get You Help go read that first, or this won't make any sense.
> 
>    
> **Recovery is definitely not something that you should joke about. It is a very serious matter, it is also very hard and extremely frustrating, but you that's why you reach out for help.**

Cas met Dean in the living room and sat next to him on the carpet petting his hair. "Shh, i'm right here. Tell me what's wrong so I can help you." He whispered soothingly as he took the blade out of Dean's grasp.

Dean continued to sob looking down at the floor. Tears fell down hitting his gray sweats. He finally took a shaky breath and looked up at Cas, "I don't fucking know." He sighed heavily. "I just think about a lot of shit, and it makes me want to fucking kill myself. I don't want to fucking be here, Cas. I'm fucking exhausted." He whined.

"Hey, hey!" Castiel said lifting his chin up to look at him. "Don't talk like that." He tried to hide the fact that his face was going pale, but he was pretty sure Dean had already seen it. "I don't like it."

"Well that's how I feel. You said I could talk to you when I'm having trouble with this shit, and that's your fucking response." He paused and looked at him. "Cas-" he choked, his eyes red rimmed and watery. "I need you right now, man." He sobbed harder. "I'm coming to you with this shit 'cause it's heavy on my chest and all you have to say to comfort me is _"don't talk like that"_ really?" He asked sobbing.

Castiel rubbed his eyes and sighed. "What do you want me to say, Dean? I'm not a therapist. I cannot stand to see you like this, falling apart right in front of me. I can't fucking do it. I know you need me, I know you do. I'm trying to be there for you as much as I possibly can, but you're only letting me do so much."

Dean sat there registering what Castiel was telling him. He was right, Dean was only letting him do so much. Hell, Castiel probably didn't even know that Dean was still fucked up about the Lisa thing, he didn't even know that he had gotten worse and it wasn't even about Lisa anymore, all he knew is that's what triggered it in the first place. Dean was so closed off and isolated from other people. Like he had his guard up all the time but truth is, he didn't mind it not one bit but there was still a small part of him that yearned for any type of attention at all.

That's when it hit him like a ton of bricks. Like a wall came crashing to the ground. "I don't e-even know why i'm this way still.." He said honestly. "I mean L-Lisa- she-she doesn't even cross my mind anymore but I know that's what made me like this and the fact that I feel like no one cares about me. Like I-I lay in bed at night and I cry, because there's nothing to distract me from my thoughts and that's when I feel the worst and by the time I get done crying I pass the fuck out because it drains me." He took a breath. "All of this-" he shook his head fighting back tears. "It's-it's fucking exhausting, Cas. I can hardly stand it somedays." Boom! More tears.

Castiel pulled Dean into his lap and shushed him quietly while petting his hair and rocking back and forth. "You don't have to feel like this, Dean.." He reminded him in a whisper. "We can always get you help, we can try therapy again." He paused, waiting for Dean to shoot the idea down. "We can get you back on your medication. We can try. This is the first step to getting better, going to someone for help. And you did that and i'm so proud of you." He kissed Dean's forehead a few times. "But you have to want this, Dean. You have to be willing to get better. If not for someone, then do it for yourself. Fuck! I'd give my left nut to see you happy again!" He scoffed. "Even if you were getting a little help from the medication. I want happy, smiley, sarcastic, asshole Dean back. I miss him."

Dean nodded.

"I'm fucking serious, Dean." Castiel ordered in his parent voice. "You _have_ to want this. You can't throw your pills away because they make you feel a certain way, you can't cut because your therapist set you off. The self destructive behavior has to stop in order for you to get better. You have to cooperate with the doctors, and the nurses, and the therapists, and sometimes even others that feel the same way you do. Do you understand?" He asked, looking down at him.

Dean opened his mouth to speak but his words didn't come out so he just nodded letting Cas know he understood.

"We'll go tomorrow and get everything set up, okay? You wanna go with me?" He whispered into Dean's hair. Dean nodded against his chest. "Let's go to bed, baby." Castiel suggested, patting Dean's back softly. "You're so grumpy." He whispered.

* * *

"Cas.." Dean's voice was a broken whisper, he looked at the dark haired man sitting in the drivers seat. "I'm scared." He said so low Castiel could barely hear him.

Castiel turned to Dean and pet his hair. "Why are you scared, honey? There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm going to be with you the whole time." He gave him a reassuring smile.

Dean sighed heavily, _I really don't want to fucking do this, I don't. Something is going to happen and it's gonna make this worse then i'm gonna hang myself because it's too much pressure._ "What if people in there think i'm weird? They're going to laugh at me."

Castiel glared at him, sort of annoyed. "Have you ever been inside a counseling clinic, Dean? There's a bunch of people- drug addicts to schizophrenics. They're here to get help, just like you. No one is going to laugh at you. None of them know why you're here."

"Okay." He mumbled. The two of them exited the car and made their way inside through the double doors. Dean Winchester was a grown ass man and he still gripped Castiel's hand so tight out of fear because he didn't know what to expect when he walked in Headquarters Counseling Center. He had all eyes focus on him for maybe an eighth of a second. They reached the receptionist window and Cas tried to shake Dean's hand from his, he finally let go after a second then he shoved his sweaty, shaky hands into his Arkiak hoodie and waited patiently looking around the room. The girl in the corner had hardly any teeth, the guy in the aisle seat was unbelievably shaky, and there was a little boy, sitting next to an older lady who might've been his grandmother. Dean wondered why that little kid was in a place like this, but that was none of his business.

The nurse slide a clipboard of papers out the open window and the two of them took a seat in the middle row of seats. Dean tugged gently on Castiel's arm. "Why do we have to fill papers out? I thought we already did it?"

"We did, but it's mandatory just incase any of your information has changed." Cas explained. Dean let his eye wonder once more, he noticed met an elderly man's gaze and quickly looked away gripping Castiel's arm. Dean's heart was beating so fast, he thought it was going to beat out of his chest, his breath was quick and frantic, he felt like he was sweating.

"Cas, how long do we have to sit here?" Dean whispered into Castiel's shoulder.

"Just a little bit longer, Dean." He said, not looking up from the forms he was filling out. "What meds did they put you on in the hospital?"

"Like the hospital hospital or the ward?"

Castiel shot him a warning look, "psychiatric." He sighed.

Dean thought for a second, "Celexa, Abilify, and Xanax."

"Asthma?" Castiel asked going down the form. Dean shook his head. "Any kind of heart condition?" Dean shook his head. "Cancer?" Dean shook his head. "Use of illegal substances?" Dean's eyes widened and he gave Cas a questioning glance, "prescriptions are okay, Dean. Like marijuana, heroin, coke. Stuff like that." Dean shook his head once more. He heard Castiel scoff. "I know damn well you drink."  He winked at a pouty Dean- who was slumped down in his chair laying his head on Cas' shoulder. It elicited a grin from Dean and he hid his face in Cas' shirt sleeve.

Castiel finished filling out the forms and walked them back to the receptionists  window. "Thank you. Um, Dr. Bender originally had Dean, right?" The freckled redhead asked. She wore a red flannel with a Star Wars shirt underneath. Didn't they have to dress professionally?

"Yeah, I think so, short brunette?" Cas asked just to be clear.

She nodded, "do want to request her again? Or would he like to be placed with someone else? We called him a few weeks back to set something up but, no one answered."

"I think maybe he'd like to stay with Dr. Bender. He's terrified of change."

She flashed a toothy smile, "alright. Well that's good because Missy just transferred from Wichita, we're trying to get her all set up with new clientele. I think you guys would like her. Alright, just sit tight, she'll be with you shortly."

Cas walked back to his seat next to Dean and plopped down with a sigh. "She said she'll be with us shortly."

They waited a total of six minutes before a short, slim, brunette walked into the waiting room. "Dean?" She asked looking around around the room, he stood up and her eyes fell on him immediately.

He looked expectantly at Cas as he stood up as well, "can he come back with me?" He asked in a worried whisper.

"Of course you can." She gave Cas an approving smile opening the heavy door to the hallway that lead to all the offices in the building. "How are you today, Dean?" She asked, her high heels hitting the tile as she walked. She stopped at another door and slid the ID around her neck through the electronic lock and the light turned green and she pulled it open and lead them to her office.

"I'm okay." He smiled.

"Here's my office," she said unlocking the door and inviting them in. Her door was decorated and Dean made a mental note about it for later. "Have a seat and we'll get started.

Dean gulped loudly and took a seat in the comfy loveseat, Cas sat next to him. "So have you ever been here before? To HQ?" She asked as she straightened out the wrinkles in her shirt.

Dean frowned, "no," he replied shaking his head. "I didn't even know this place existed."

"Well it is kind of small and it's not on a main road so i'd imagine it'd be hard to find." She chuckled. "So, Dean." She started, crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt. "Tell me a little about you."

Dean blushed and hid his face in his hands, "uh. I like food, classic rock, m-my car, I live with this guy," he said gesturing to Cas with a slight chuckle. "I work at Reckless Ink across town, I have a brother named Sammy, and I like cats."

"What kind of car do you have?"

Dean grinned, he liked when people asked him about his car because he loved her, probably more than Cas and pie...nah! That's insane, but pretty damn close. "A 1967 Chevy Impala."

Missy looked impressed, "wow! That's a classic."

Dean smirked, "that's how I like 'em. What about you-" he searched around the room for a name. Diploma on the wall. Boom. "Uh, Missy? What's your story?" He asked curiously.

"Well, I uh, I moved to Lawrence from Wichita to take this job as an adult therapist, I was working with youth, but I wanted to try something a little different. I went to Yale and majored in Psychology I'm originally from St. Louis Missouri, I am the youngest of three brothers, my father is a Cardiothoracic surgeon-" Dean racked his brain for a Dr. Bender in St. Louis. The old dude with the white beard and a beer belly, was her dad. Now that he thought about it she kinda has his smile. "We often get confused for one another. The only difference is that he has PhD at the end of his name and I have PsyD at the end of mine. I have an apartment- which is currently stacked high with boxes, i'm still getting settled in, I have a kitten named, Chloe and a rabbit named, Nimbus."

Dean nodded, "you have a lot of degrees covering that wall Dr. Bender." He stated.

She turned around and looked over head, "I sure do." She replied turning back to her desk going through a stack of forms. "So Dean," she said looking up at him with a small smile. "It says here that you're here because you're majorly depressed..is that true?" She asked in a soft subtle voice. Dean's head dropped and he nodded. "Have you felt like this for long?"  

He looked at Cas for an answer and he just stared at him. Dean looked at her, "about four months.." He whispered, ashamed to admit it aloud.

"And your girlfriend-" She looked down at the paper one more time, "Lisa, was it?" Dean nodded. "Passed away in a car accident, correct?" She asked in an apologetic tone. Dean nodded again. "That's what triggered your depression?"

"Yeah.."

"Your hospital records indicate that you were admitted to Bert Nash and Lawrence Memorial, here in town for self destructive behavior."

Dean felt a wave of guilt rush over him. He gulped loudly. The back of his throat started to burn and his eyes hurt for some reason. He felt like he was going to cry, but it somehow got stuck. "Yeah.." He said, his voice hoarse. He refused to met her eyes.

Dean focused on the clock sitting on the window sill. 6:01. He should get out of here any minute now. He was waiting for Dr. Bender to finish up. She scratched something on a form of some kind and stood. Dean sighed in relief and stood as well. "Give this paper to Charlie- she's the short haired, redhead at the receptionists window. She will put your information into the computer and set up an appointment for next week, okay?" She smiled.

Dean followed Dr. Bender out of her office with Cas following close behind. She unlocked the door with her fancy electronic ID card then walked back to her office. Dean stood in line at the window and waited his turn. He gave the redhead- Charlie his paper and she gave him a smile. "Ah! Dean Winchester. How are you today?" She asked as she punched his information in the computer.

Dean gave her a quick smile, "i'm fine, thank you. Yourself?"

"I'm fantastic, actually." She said cheerfully. Dean didn't say anything, he gave her a weak smile. He envied people like Charlie. Happy and carefree, not having to to rely soley on shitty prescription drugs to balance out the chemicals in their brains to made them feel a certain way. He hated it really, it was a lot of work and most days he'd forget to take his pills so that'd leave him feeling even more shittier than before.

She handed him a card and smiled. "Next Thursday at 3:45. Do you need a doctors note for work, Dean?"

"No thank you." He smiled politely at her and headed toward the double doors with Castiel.

"You did great in there." Cas smiled at him as he climbed into the car.

Dean slid in the passenger side and immediately slumped again the window and huffed a sigh. He clenched his eyes tightly for a few seconds to keep from crying. "Eh, it's bullshit." He grimaced.

"Don't start." Castiel warned as he pulled out of the parking lot. "You asked for help and you're getting it, don't go in there and be an ass just because you think it's bullshit. There are people that are trying to help you get better and you're complaining about it. It's the first session, Dr. Bender is trying to get acquainted; to get to know you better. She's not gonna ask you straight up why you're there. That's why you're going back next week."

"Will you go?" Dean asked quietly, twirling his thumbs in his lap.

Cas ran his free hand through Dean's hair and smiled, "of course, but only if you want me back there with you. Whe-" he stopped himself, Dean didn't need to know about that part of his past just yet.

"What?" Dean's head shot up.

"No-nothing, I said i'd go back if I have your permission ahead of time." He cleared his throat nervously and focused on the road.

"Well duh!" Dean teased sliding his hand into Castiel's with a grin. "It's okay, you can but, there might be some days where I don't want you to. But I want you in there the majority of the time, Cas. I talk about this stuff with you sometimes and it's only fair that you hear all of it. I want you to hear what Dr. Bender has to say."

* * *

Cas pounded on the bathroom door. Dean has been in the shower for over an hour. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing, Dean. Unlock the fucking door!" He demanded.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean shouted. With shampoo in his hair he jumped out and unlocked the door and then hopped back in the shower. "Come in!"

The door swung open and Castiel stormed through the door. "I'm checking you when you're done." He paused for a few beats. "What are you doing in there?"

Dean mocked Cas' name in a moan, "i'm getting off on the thought of you, the warm water helps." He joked. Dean let out a annoyed laugh, "i'm fucking showering Cas, Jesus Christ."

"Hilarious! Get out!"

"I'm not even done yet! Plus I don't even have anything to cut with." He explained.

"There are razors in the shower, when people that self harm don't have their tools to hurt themselves with they get creative."

"Cas..." Dean rolled his eyes. Thank God he didn't see him, he would've gotten slapped. "We need those razors. If I wanted to tear myself to shreds again i'd go buy more."

Castiel tore the shower curtain back with a quickness. Dean was rinsing the conditioner out of his hair. He glanced over at an angry Cas as he continued with his hair. "You bought more?" Cas asked in disbelief, his voice raised.

"No, I didn't say that." Dean shot back with a slight attitude. "I said if I wanted to, i'd go buy more." He shook his head, "but I don't have any." He said as he turned the water off, and stepped out grabbed the towel off the rack wrapping it around his waist. Cas jerked it away. "Hey! What was that for, asshole?"

Cas inspected Dean's naked body carefully, as he spun him around slowly. "Just checking to be sure." His eyes scanned over heaps of healed scars. He all the sudden felt sick to his stomach. How could someone so beautiful hate himself to the point where he has to ruin his adorable freckled skin with a piece of metal? Cas traced the scars on Dean's bicep and frowned. They had matching scars. The thought almost made him cry right there, but he held back.

"Are you done?" Dean asked softly.

Cas looked at him, "you don't cut around your groin, do you?"

"Like my-my d-dick?" Dean stuttered, looking at Castiel with wide eyes. Cas nodded slowly. A shudder ran through Dean, Castiel was close enough he could sort of feel it. "Why would I do that?" Dean shrieked. He winced again. "That would hurt a lot worse. But i've only cut my thighs." He admitted.

"You'd be surprised how many people cut themselves there." He said handing Dean's towel back. He watched as Dean wrapped himself with it with quick hands. "My one of friends from high school used to cut there because she could never get a boyfriend."

"I would never do that, it's insane." Dean said walking in his bedroom. "I wouldn't want to ruin the family jewels." Dean said with a laugh.

"But ruining the rest of your body is okay?" Cas asked sternly, following behind him.

Dean's laugh faded as he felt his chest tightened. His words caught in his throat, he couldn't breathe. Maybe if he acted like he didn't hear him, it'd be okay. "You don't understand.." He said in a weak whisper. _Good going, asshole! Way to keep your mouth shut!_

Dean heard rustling behind him as he was getting dressed. He looked behind him and Castiel was frantically shedding his clothing. "I don't understand?" He was closer to Dean now, "what is it that you think I don't understand, Dean?" Dean just stared at him in shock as he looked slowly over his clad body. His shoulders, his chest, his ribs, his stomach, his arms, thighs and legs were covered in all kinds of scars. Dean was afraid to meet his eyes, so he kept them on the floor. "Bet you didn't notice all of this when you were tattooing me a few weeks ago, did you?" Dean didn't move. His throat hitched and his eyes started to burn. Cas sat next to him on the bed. "Look!" Cas said pointing back and forth to the scars on his and Dean's biceps. His were more prominent than Dean's though. He gestured to the scars on their thighs. Perfect lines straight across the tops of their thighs. "And I bet you didn't think about cutting right here, did you?" He asked, gesturing to his ribs. Heavy tears flowed hot down Dean's face, he tried to breathe but he couldn't. "Why are you crying, Dean?" Castiel waited for an answer. Dean shook his head quickly, making more tears fall. "You don't know?" He shook his head again. Castiel looked at him for what felt like years to Dean.

"Wh-" he choked. "Why would you d-do that, Cas?" Dean was sobbing now, he felt like the tears were coming down faster.

"I was just a kid.." He said softly, wiping the still flowing tears from Dean's face. "I was stupid, I had a lot going through my brain at the time.."

"Y-you don't still do that do you?" He asked, trying to catch his breathe.

Castiel shook his head and ran his fingers through Dean's wet hair. "No baby, I don't." He reassured him.

Dean let out a heavy relieved sighed. Dammit! The tears started up again and Dean let his head fall to Castiel's clad shoulder. "Now do you understand, why i'm trying to help you?" Dean nodded, Cas felt tears roll down his arm. "Don't tell me that I don't understand, Dean..don't. Because I understand perfectly. Now you know why I get so upset over this when you do it." He explained.

When Cas was fourteen he started cutting. Naomi found out a year later and she was outraged, so she threw his ass in therapy. She'd sit in on his therapy sessions and he didn't like it because that meant he couldn't talk about what he wanted to talk about without getting scolded afterward, it was mostly about family stuff and the bullying in school. That's why it hurts him tremendously when he found out Dean was doing this to himself. It hits home, and Castiel knows exactly how it feels to want to tear yourself to shreds on a daily basis, that's why Cas is trying to help.

"What happened?" Dean asked, looking at him with red rimmed eyes.

Castiel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, I was bullied in high school and my family was ridiculous. I couldn't take it and that was the only thing that helped." He chuckled. "Now that I think about it, every single one of my scars were unnecessary, totally fixable. I was a kid and I thought it was my only option because I felt like my family hated me. My mom-" he let out a sad laugh, "oh God, my mom, man. She- she was embarrassed to be seen in public with me because I was covered in cuts and scars. She'd make me wear jeans and hoodies in the middle of summer...man, I was so fucking miserable..."

Dean's lip started to quiver, he was going to cry again. "Is-is that- a-are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" He stuttered worriedly.

Castiel looked at Dean questionably and wrapped his arm around him hugging him tightly. "No, no! Dean," he pulled away and gripped his biceps. "Don't you ever think that. Ever. You hear me?" He gave him a gentle shake. "I will never be embarrassed by you just because you have cuts and scars- scars." He corrected quickly. "Just scars, right? No cuts." He asked. Dean nodded. "I won't ever do that to you, I won't ever treat you like my mom treated me." He kissed Dean's head, "I promise."

Cas patted Dean's knee as he stood, "finished getting dressed. I wanna go get movies and then shit for dinner."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Yes, Dean! I'm sure. You said you wanted me there, so i'm going to be there. You said it was okay. So let's go." Castiel demanded as he was pushing Dean out the front door.

Dean signed in at the window and took a seat next to Castiel. He put a chair between him and someone else because it was weird for him to sit shoulder to shoulder with a complete stranger. He looked around and saw a person cross the room from last week; the girl with black, stringy hair. She was really pale and had large bags under her eyes, she had holes in her arms, and scabs and cuts to accompany them. Some about the size of quarters. Dean wasn't stupid, he knew what they were from. She was a junkie. Though she might've done a few others, heroin was her drug of choice.

Dean waited for ten minutes until Dr. Bender showed up in the waiting room. He got up from his seat slowly and dragged his feet across the floor. "Hello, Dean." She greeted him as they walked down the hall. Dean listened to the steady tap of her stilettos against the tiled floor.

"Hi, Dr. B," he replied following her as she unlocked the door with her key card. She lead the two of them down the hallway to her office and let them in the door.

"How are you today, Dean?" She asked smoothing her pantsuit as she took a seat.

"I'm ok." He nodded.

"Okay?" She cocked her head. "Why just okay?" She asked.

Dean shrugged, "eh, I don't know. I just am."

"Well, how have you felt the last week since we last saw each other?" She asked, making eye contact with him.

"Good, I guess, I uh, I cried a few times," he blushed. "And I've had times when I wanted to cut." Cas was taken aback by Dean's confession. He looked at Dean with sad eyes. How come he hadn't come to him?

"Why did you cry?"

"Because I want to die.." He said weakly. He glanced over at Cas, but didn't look up far enough to meet his eyes. "Nobody needs me here.. It's pointless."

Castiel sniffled and wiped his eyes then rushed out of the room. Dean just stared at the door. He wanted to run after him but his time with Dr. Bender wasn't over until 3:30. "Should I not have said that?" He asked, feeling ashamed. He swallowed hard and his throat felt like it was closing.

"No, Dean you say whatever is on your mind..don't pay him any attention. He is just probably overwhelmed because of what you said. Give him a moment to himself. Now, can you tell me why you want to die? When did you start feeling this way?"

"I felt like that ever since I found out about Lisa. That's what started it. For days, i'd sit and sit wishing that I was dead. Then months passed and it really wasn't about Lisa anymore. I just started filling my head with so much negative shit, that after awhile I started to believe it." He paused for a beat and chuckled. "I uh, My parents died in a house fire when I was a kid and I just recently started to blame myself for that..." He trailed off. "And Cas- when he gets mad at me, I feel like he doesn't want me around, I constantly feel like a burden to him."

"Why is that funny? When you told me about your parents just now. Why did you laugh at that?" Dr. Bender asked and propped her hand up under her chin and continued listening.

"It's not. I-I-I laugh to mask the fact that i'm about to cry." He forced a smile and Dr. Bender reached around and handed him the box of tissues on her desk. "Sometimes- well more than sometimes, ninety-eight percent of the time I cry myself to sleep at night because it's quiet-" he got distracted when the door opened and Cas walked across the floor to the seat next to him. "In my room and I get so consumed in my thoughts, that I just start crying and sometimes I cry so hard that it drains my energy and I pass out immediately afterwards."

"Do you ever talk to someone about why you cry at night?" Dr. Bender asked.

"Yeah, Cas. I tell him everything. Literally, everything that's wrong, everything that's bothering me, and plus he told me to go to him when I want to hurt myself."

Cas blushed. "He does come to me a lot with a heavy conscience. He gets really quiet when he hides stuff, like cutting, or even if he wants to talk to me about something he didn't start letting me know until a few weeks ago."

"That's good, do you go to him when you cry or do you isolate yourself?" She paused and waited for an answer. When he didn't, she continued. "Because that's what most people normally do, they feel like they're a burden toward other people and they think that they can get through their problems alone. The key is to have someone you can confide in when times get rough- Cas is that person for you and i'm glad you do that."

"Eh sort of both, I guess. He's there most of the time. But when he's not I don't want to bother him so I just handle it myself. And when I do, I usually end up in either Lawrence Memorial or Bert Nash and I don't like it because it scares me."

"Tell you what, Dean. Our time together is almost up so i'm going to end your session with this. From now on, whenever anything is wrong-  I mean anything, you're feeling a certain way or you're afraid you're going to hurt yourself. Call him, text him. Whatever the case maybe, you probably right now, are the most important priority on his list. He cares about your health and safety. If he doesn't answer, when you're in dire need- which I'm positive he answers his phone all the time. But in the event he doesn't," she spun around in her chair, facing her desk. She pulled her business card out, "the one time he doesn't, I want you to call this number." She instructed pointing to the bold letters. Tri-County Crisis Hotline. "It's a 24 hour hotline, no matter what time it is, someone will always answer your call."

It's been two hours since Dean's session with Dr. Bender and Castiel still hasn't said a word to him. Dean was getting desperate for attention. He wanted to talk to someone that wasn't himself. He climbed in Castiel's lap and nudged his chin with the top of his head. "Baby," he pouted in almost a whine. Nothing. "Castiel, why are you acting like that. Please talk to me." Castiel's attention was focused on the tv. Dean sat there for a few minutes waiting, when Cas didn't answer he slid out of of his lap and stormed to his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

Castiel heard the turn of the lock. He looked toward the door, "unlock the door!" He yelled from the couch. He waited for Dean to unlock it. Nothing. "Dean! Unlock the fucking door! I told you about that, already!" He waited a few seconds more, then he crossed the floor in five big strides until his hand met with the door. He pounded until Dean answered. When he didn't answer, his only option was a credit card. There were no keys to the doors, or at least none that he knew of. He found out about the credit card trick, a month after living with Dean because he used to lock the door when he showered and Cas needed in the bathroom and that's how he used to get into Gabriel's house when he forget to leave him a key.

He opened the door with a slam and stood in the doorway. Dean was laying on his side facing the wall. "What did I tell you about that? You know I told you that wasn't allowed."

"I don't care." Dean mumbled.

Castiel walked over to Dean's side of the bed and pushed his feet off the bed. "Get up." He demanded. Dean sighed and sat up at as slowly as possible. "You don't care?"

Dean shook his head and by the looks of it, he put a little attitude behind it.

"Why?" Castiel asked as he stood with his arms crossed.

"I just don't, okay? Why the fuck is it a big deal?" He asked curtly as he threw his arms up in mock surrender.

That's when Castiel noticed it. Red. He snatched Dean's arm and held it out to examine it. "What's this?" He nodded down at Dean's arm that was covered in scratches and a few big cuts and a burn of some kind. These were fresh, he had probably just made them. Dean kept quiet and chewed the inside of his cheek. "Did you just do this?" Dean felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He didn't like when Cas found out that he had been hurting himself.

Dean nodded weakly, "yeah." He answered in raspy whisper. He was almost on the verge of tears the longer Castiel focused on his arm.

When Castiel scoffed that's when the first tear fell. It hurt that he was laughing him. Dean waited to curl up into a ball and sleep..or die. They both sounded nice right now. Castiel shook his head and scoffed again. "You wanna go back? Do you want to go back to Bert Nash? Because if you do, i'm pretty sure I can arrange something."

Tears poured down Dean's cheeks, his eyes widened in fear when Cas mentioned Bert Nash Community Mental Health Center. He didn't want to go back. It scared him, he was too normal to be in there. "N-no!" He sobbed.

"Then why did you hurt yourself? I mean, did you not listen in therapy?" He scoffed and threw his hands in the air. "What not even two hours ago? She said to tell someone when you think you're going to hurt yourself! And here you are," he gestured angrily at Dean he held his arm out. "Doing this shit! How do you expect yourself to get better if you keep cutting?"

"Recovery is a fucking joke!" Dean yelled. "I tried to get your attention but I guess you're too fucking mad at me, for whatever reason to pay me even the slightest bit of attention."

"When?" Castiel asked in disbelief. "You haven't said a word to me since we go back!"

Dean nodded rapidly, "You didn't see me or feel me in your lap like ten minutes ago? That was me trying- and failing, miserably," he pointed out. "To get your attention."

"So what does getting my attention have to do with recovery being a joke?" Cas asked, totally changing the subject.

"It doesn't. It's just a fucking joke. I'm never going to get better. But even if I do, years from now. I will still always have the urge to cut. Because it never fucking leaves. I get through the day hour by hour, you know why?" Cas shook his head. "Because everything I do, it somehow triggers me. 'Oh, I can't load the dishwasher because there's probably steak knives in there that I can drag across my skin. Can't shower without staring at the razors on the ledge, can't go to work without stealing a pack of fucking razor blades. Can't light candles, Cas will think I bought a lighter to hurt myself with' it goes on and on. I cannot get through the fucking day because every little thing triggers me." He chuckled, "hell doing laundry even triggers me, like 'how much bleach would I have to drink for me to die' Every. Fucking. Day Cas. It's always there. It never stops." Dean explained.

Cas shook his head, "you are fucking ridiculous, Dean." He said before leaving the room. He made a beeline to the front door and Dean followed his movement with his eyes. When he noticed Cas was moving toward the door. He ran after him.

"Cas!" He yelled. "Cas, where are you going?" He choked. He's leaving. "Cas!" He grabbed his arm to stop him. Dean was sobbing now. "Cas, please don't leave, I didn't mean it. I won't do it again, I promise!"

Castiel shrugged him off and slammed the door. He knew better than to take his car when something like this happened, if he took his car, he knew that he wasn't going to come back. But he took Dean's car. Dean loved his car probably more than He loved Castiel and if he were to take off with his car, he would never forgive him for it. So it took it, because he wasn't leaving him. He was leaving him for a little while to blow off some steam and clear his head.

Dean heard rummaging in the kitchen an hour and a half later, he poked his head out into the living room and sniffled. "Castiel?" He whispered in disbelief.

Cas turned around and smiled at him. "Hi, Dean." He said putting groceries.

"I-I thought you left?" Dean stuttered, almost sobbing again.

"I did." He looked back at Dean and nodded with a smile.

"I thought you were mad at me?" Dean asked as he made his way to the small kitchen and leaned against the counter. Cas noticed his voice wavered a bit.

"I was," Cas nodded with a chuckle. "But leaving gave me a chance clear my head," he said putting the milk away, he turned to Dean, waving his finger. "But, i'm still extremely upset about you cutting." He said sternly.

Dean felt tears pool at the corner of his eyes. He frowned and slid his foot across the floor. He looked at his arm and hid it behind his back, feeling ashamed. "Sorry." Dean whimpered, as tears fell freely down his face.

Cas pulled him in closer to his chest and kissed his head, "hey, hey! It's nothing to cry about, okay? I'm just upset that you hurt yourself over something so small."

"Sorry I was such an asshole." Dean sobbed into Castiel's shirt. "Please don't leave again." He looked at him wide eyes.

"I'm not going to leave again, plus I just bought groceries for dinner. And i'm," He kissed Dean softly. "Going to," he kissed him again. "Make you." Kiss. "Dinner." Kiss. "Because I know you're starving."

"Dean!" Cas whispered loudly trying to wake him, it was 2:14 AM. He was crying and thrashing wildly in his sleep. "Dean, wake up!" Cas' voice trembled.

Dean woke with a jolt, his eyes wide. His face was wet from his tears. "Cas?" He looked around and saw him laying beside him.

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, rubbing Dean's arm gently.

"I-I was at Bert Nash-sh again. Nightmare." He quaked.

Castiel pulled him closer, trying to comfort him. "Dean, it's okay. You're in our bedroom." He twisted around a turned the beside light on with a click. "See? Look around. I'm here. You're in your bed. You're okay, calm down." He reassured him.

"Please don't send me back there, Cas. I'll be good. I swear I will. I won't lock the doors or steal anymore blades from you or anything." He sobbed.

"Shh Dean," castiel cooed softly, trying to coax him out of his crying fit. "It's okay, I won't send you back there. You're gonna stay here with me." He yawned hard, "and we're gonna go back to sleep, okay baby?"

* * *

"So tell me how you go those cuts. You don't have to, i'm just curious. Those weren't there last time we talked." Dr. Bender pointed out.

"Oh," Dean mumbled, covering the cuts self consciously. "Cas was mad at me for something and he wouldn't talk to me and I needed his help, but he didn't come so I did this." He said honestly, gesturing to his arm. "Then he got mad at me for locking the door- we're not allowed to lock doors in our house. Well- I can't lock the doors, because I do bad shit when i'm alone. Then I cut, before he came in."

"What did you use to hurt yourself?"

Dean's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He didn't want to tell her. What if Castiel got mad? What if he took them? "I uh, a-a lighter and a safety pin." He looked over to see if Cas heard him. Of course he did.

"I also keep noticing that every time I ask you a question about your cuts, you cover them with your hand." She commented as she watched his hand slide over the cuts. "It's okay," she continued. "There's no judgement in this room, Dean." She paused for a beat and studied him closely. "Are you ashamed of your scars?" She asked.

Dean let his head drop. He sat there for a minute and thought about it. He was ashamed of his scars. No one in public wanted to see that, that's why he always wore long sleeves. He nodded and met her eyes again, "yeah, I am. I embarrass myself even. Hell, maybe even Cas. I know the staring is uncomfortable for the both of us. He told me he's fine with being in public with me, but I know that that's not true. I feel like if I don't cover them up i'll inconvenience everyone around me. Or i'll scare little kids. I don't care if it's twenty degrees or ninety, i'm wearing a hoodie in public at all times."

"But you're not wearing one now, why is that?"

"Because I don't really care if people here see them. Everyone here has something wrong with them, whatever it maybe. I'm comfortable here." He explained.

"I'm glad to hear that, Dean." She told him. "But since our time is about up, I want you to try something for me." Dean raised his brow and looked at her. When she had his attention, she continued. "I want you to- wherever you go outside from now on, for whatever reason...I don't want you wearing long sleeves-"

Dean's eyes widened in fear as she talked. No, he couldn't do that. People would ask questions and he'd have to talk about it. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. "Why?" He asked, voice trembling.

"You can't hide them forever, Dean." _Fucking watch me!_ "They are apart of you, they are on your body forever and you can't change that and one day you're going to tire of wearing long sleeves everyday and you'll be too hot. I just want you to be comfortable in your own skin. That's all."

"Cas, do I have to wear muscle shirts? I already feel way too uncomfortable in just a regular shirt. My arms are disgusting and I don't want anyone to see them." He complained.

"Just try it for a few days, Dean. Please? Doctor Bender just wants to see how you'll do with it. If you don't like it, if it makes you too uncomfortable you can put a sweater on. But at least try it- for Doctor Bender." Cas pleaded.

Dean pouted and crossed his arms, "I can only not wear a hoodie inside,  you know that."

"I do, babe. But this will help you get better, maybe when you get on your meds again you'll be less self conscious about your scars."

"Okay." Dean said quietly as he walked into his bedroom and collapsed face first on his bed with a sigh.

"Hey," Cas called seconds later. He was leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face. Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder. "It's scary, I know. I've been there. But you'll get used to it over time, even though most of the scars on you are sort of noticeable, you'll get to the point where you'll be comfortable with it, that way you won't give a shit."

"Cas, I don't wanna do this." He groaned into the mattress. "I don't want to fucking do any of it, it's all bullshit. Why can't-" he trailed off with another sigh. "Why can't people just leave this shit alone? It's not that bad. I don't see the problem with it. I'm not hurting anyone but myself...because I deserve it."

Cas chuckled, Dean noticed his smile was replaced with a sad one. "You're not hurting anyone-" he cut himself off with a sarcastic scoff. It sounded kind of sad, really. Dean saw his eyes glisten as he turned to lay on his back "I love you, right?" Dean just stared at him. "Right?" Cas asked again, voice a little shaky.

"Right." Dean said annoyingly.

"Ok," Cas said with nod. "Then why would you hurt something that I love?" Dean didn't answer. He just shrugged. "I love you, so why would you hurt yourself?"

Dean kept staring and scoffed at him, "fuck off, Cas! You got a lot of nerve asking me that. You fucking hypocrite. Naomi loved you so why did you hurt yourself?"

"Don't." Cas demanded, trying to hold back tears.

"Why not?" Dean snapped propping himself up on his elbows.

"Because," Cas sniffled. "This isn't about me! This is about you! You have no right to call me a hypocrite, I got help years ago and i'm trying to do the same for you if you'd stop being such a condescending cunt long enough for me to help."  He laughed and shook his head. "It's something every time with you, every damn time. It's like- you go to a session, just to come home and bitch about what she wants you to try. I mean, it's a fucking hoodie for Christ sake. It's scary at first, I understand. But you can't wear hoodies in eighty degree weather, Dean! And who gives a flying fuck about your scars? No one. No one except-" he paused and pointed a stiff finger at him. "You. You're so paranoid about people in public seeing your scars, you can't go anywhere. No one gives a fuck!" He explained loudly.

Dean nodded and grimaced, "yeah they do.."

Cas shook his head. "Really?" He asked walking toward Dean, he forcefully pushed up his sleeve. "You think I give a fuck about your scars?" Dean shook his head and turned his gaze upward to look at Cas. "No, I don't." He explained matter-of-factly. "Now, I give a fuck about how they got there, but other than that,  if i'm embarrassed- which i'm not. There's not a damn thing I can do about it , because they are on you permanently. And i'm not gonna be that dick that makes you cover yourself up in hot as fuck weather."

Dean rolled over and Cas sat down. Dean pulled him down and pulled him close, "I don't like arguing with you every time I come home from therapy, Cas. I feel like an asshole, 'cause one of us ends up crying every time."  He buried his face in the crook of Cas' neck. "Let's just- can we sleep it off?" He asked sleepily.

Cas nodded and kissed Dean's lips before he closed his eyes. "I love you, D." Cas mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness.

"You too." Dean whispered.

* * *

Dean has been three days without long sleeves in public. At first he was freaking out, but Cas comforted him the entire time. Hey were walking through Walmart grocery shopping, Dean was wearing a cut off shirt (Cas' idea, not Dean's. It totally made him look like a douchebag that lifted at the gym) and he crossed arms tight against his chest and covered his biceps with his hands. This is the _only_ time he wished his hands were bigger. They didn't cover his entire arm and he was freaking out. He hoped no one stopped to confront him about it.

"Excuse me." A female voice called. He felt a light tap on his shoulder, he froze in place. It took him a minute to move.

He swallowed hard and turned on her heels. "Yeah?" He asked, terrified of what the lady was going to say. Dean's eyes wandered to a little blond girl with curls buckled in the front of the woman's cart, she looked about three or four. The little girl's mom? Or Dean thought she was the little girl's mom, looked like she had a silver spoon up her ass. Her hair was curled and pinned back and she wore one of those skimpy little yoga outfits that rich people wore.

"Not to come off as a bitch, but you need to cover your arms. There are children in the store as well as other adults and none of us would like those awful, mutilated things on display." She snapped.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. I, um, I actually was just deployed from Iraq not too long ago." Lie. "And my therapist is having me try this idea she came up with, uncovering my scars from battle. I was a, uh..." He swallowed harshly. "A-a P.O.W..." He told her, trying to make the lie sound believable. "I'm terribly sorry if i'm disturbing you. I'm just getting used to them being uncovered, is all."

"Oh." Her mouth gaped. She immediately felt bad for confronting him. "No, no, no. _I'm_ terribly sorry, I had no idea, that must've been so hard." Dean nodded. "I hope everything works out, you two have a great day."

"Dean!" Cas scolded quietly as the lady went on her way. He smacked him in the back of the head. "What the fuck was that?"

Dean rubbed his head and shrugged. "Sorry, it was the first thing on my mind. It was impulsive. 'M sorry.." He apologized.

The two of them got home and Dean sighed heavily in relief when he was safe in the house. He relaxed as he sat on the couch, "Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Come here."

Dean jumped up and jogged across the living to the kitchen where Castiel was putting groceries away. He didn't see Dean until he turned away from the fridge. He flashed him a smile. "What?" Dean asked confused.

"Are you okay?" Castiel asked as he finished putting away the last of the groceries.

Uh, yeah...why wouldn't I be?" Dean asked, giving Castiel a confused look.

"You seemed tense at the store." He pointed out.

"Well, that's cause my arms were uncovered the entire time. I was uncomfortable." He explained seriously. "And clearly the war thing was a total lie. Why would that woman ask that? It's none of her business about how I got these scars and I should not be required to cover them up. If people don't like it, they don't have to fucking look at me."

"That's understandable, it's the first time. Just do it until you feel comfortable, the thing is, you don't let it get to you, baby. You have to be confident enough to where leaving your scars uncovered doesn't bother you." Castiel explained, patting Dean's thigh.

Dean sighed and dropped his head, running his fingers through his hair. "This is so hard." He pouted. "Shit like this makes me regret every single fucking cut i've ever given myself." He snapped. He was angry at himself for that lady sticking her fucking nose into his business.

Cas gawked at him for a second in confusion. "Are you saying that because you want me to hear it or are you saying it because you mean it?"

Dean deadpanned, "I fucking mean it, Cas." He noticed the sudden hitch in Dean's voice. Dean shook his head, continuing. "I-I-I mean, I ruined myself. I'm fucking ugly, look at me!" He demanded, gesturing to up and down his body. "Fucking ruined.." He whimpered as he let his head fall into Castiel's chest, starting to sob.

"Hey, no, no." He whispered, pulling Dean close and running a hand through his short, spiky hair. "You're not ugly and you didn't ruin yourself." Cas whispered softly into Dean's hair. "Why would you say something like that? It's not true." He pushed Dean away from his chest gently and studied him. His freckled cheeks were flushed pink and wet streaks ran down his face, a few clear down his neck. "Don't say that." Cas ordered softly. "I'm one hundred and ten percent sure that scars do not make you ugly." Castiel gently thumbed away tears from Dean's eyes. "And i'm almost positive you've gotten a lot cuter since I first moved in." He complimented, winking at the other man. Who only responded with a chuckle and a slight blush.

"Don't p-push it, Cas." Dean sniffled, trying to catch his breath.

"Push what?" Cas replied with a cocky grin.

Dean shoved him playfully.

* * *

Dean hasn't seen Dr. Bender in two weeks. He wasn't comfortable with his scars just yet, so he cancelled last weeks therapy session. So he called HQ and told them that he was sick so he had to reschedule, and it was tomorrow. He was freaking out.

Castiel walked in the front door and saw Dean pacing the floor. He was mumbling something to himself, Cas didn't know what. He just stood, watching Dean with a sudden cock of his head. "Uh one; why are you pacing? Two; why are you pacing? Three; why are you talking to yourself?" He finally asked.

It took Dean a second to answer and when he did, the pacing continued. "I-I'm not comfortable without a hoodie and-and Dr. Bender's gonna be mad if she finds out that I wasn't really sick last week, so I have to make up an excuse for why I wasn't there last week and-"

"You missed therapy last week." It wasn't a question. Castiel's eyes were fixed on Dean and he demanded an answer, like thirty seconds ago. Dean nodded his head slowly, not meeting Castiel's eyes. "You lied to me, then." Still not a question, more of an assumption. "You said you went! I even called to check on you and you said you were there!" Cas fumed. Dean glanced up at him and met his angry gaze for half a second before fixing his eyes on the floor again.

"Do I have to go with you next time? Is that it? Do you have to schedule your sessions around my work schedule so I can sit with you?" Dean shook his head shamefully. "When do you see her next?"

"Tomorrow." Dean replied, in barely a whisper.

"I'm going with you, since apparently...you aren't responsible enough." Cas sighed.

At that, Dean felt his eyes fill with tears but, he held back because he didn't want to cry in front of Cas because he was in trouble. _Stupid! Can't fucking do anything right without fucking it up first, can you? You piece of shit._ He blinked and hot tears cascaded down his cheeks. He made note not to look at Cas because he'd get scolded for crying.

Dean stormed to his room, sobbing and locked the door behind him. He soon fell asleep and when Cas called for him an hour later he didn't answer.

Castiel's only option: barge in and wake him up. When he got to the door, it was locked. He hammered his fist against it, "Dean Winchester, you better unlock this door, right now!" He ordered loudly.

No answer.

"Dean! Get up and unlock the door!" Cas ordered loudly.

He waited a few seconds then heard Dean rustle a little. "Go away, let me sleep!" He called with a rough low voice.

"Dean." Castiel's tone was softer, he tapped on the door. "Let me in, please."

"Pick the lock," Dean groaned. "I don't wanna get up."

Cas sighed, "fine." He said, walking away from the door.

* * *

"Hello, Dean! It's great to see you again." Dr. Bender greeted as she shut the door behind her. "I hope you're feeling better." She smiled and glanced at Castiel. "Hello, Castiel. Nice to see you again as well."

Castiel waved and gave her a small smile.

"I am feeling better." Dean lied.

"That's good. Did you try going without the sleeves? Like I suggested?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah. I, uh, I only got a few bad complaints. I uh, still don't feel very comfortable like you want me to be. It's still hard." Dean told her.

"That's alright. I don't expect you to just feel comfortable with it over night. It'll take some time, just be patient."

Dean nodded, "how long does it usually take?" He asked, as he bounced his legs out of nervousness.

She chuckled and crossed her legs. "Well, that depends on the person. Some people feel comfortable within a weeks. Others could possibly take months." Dean nodded. "Now, I understand that this is a touchy subject for you- and you may feel triggered, but I just want to know." Dean nodded. "Since you've been to see me have you harmed yourself in anyway? Or if you've even thought about..." She continued.

Dean's eyes widened in fear and he tried swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked at Dr. Bender for a minute then looked over at Cas. He was slouched in his chair with his arms crossed, with his leg propped up on his knee. He felt Dean's gaze on him and shifted his eyes to look back. That's what he was afraid of, if he told Dr. Bender- Missy, she told him that it was okay to call her Missy, anything about this while Castiel was in here, he'd be furious and probably send Dean back to the hospital. Dean didn't want that. He hated that fucking place.

"N-no.." Dean lied, his eyes still fixed on Castiel's. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his attention back to her. "No." He said again.

Dr. Bender gave him a slight nod. "You look scared, Dean."

"I'm not-i'm not scared." Dean told her, with a shake of his head.

"Do you not want to talk about it since Castiel is in here? Is that the problem?" She asked.

Dean looked back at Cas, who was now sitting up right. He was looking at him again, he extended his arm toward Dean and took his hand. "It's okay, you can tell her. I won't be mad." Cas reminded him softly.

Dean sighed, "you say that all the time and I usually get bitched at after every session." He explained and turned his attention toward Dr. Bender once more and nodded once. "Yes, I have. I have hurt myself since my last visit." He stated. Why did that make him feel proud? He wasn't supposed to feel that way.

Dr. Bender nodded. "Okay, what made you hurt yourself?" She asked.

"Uh," Dean swallowed. "He yelled at me." He said gesturing toward Castiel. Cas' head shot up in attention. Well this is news to him. "We got into an argument and he pissed me off."

Cas scoffed quietly, trying not to draw much attention to himself. _Why would he do that? That is- that's-_

"So your solution to him pissing you off- was to harm yourself?" She asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

It was quiet during the ride home, it was quiet until dinner, and during dinner, and after. Cas was so upset. Just the mere thought of Dean hurting himself because of him, made him sick to his stomach. He wasn't supposed to be the cause of Dean's pain. He was supposed to help him through it. He didn't want to be represented by a scar on Dean's body.

"Are they bad?" Cas muttered out of the blue.  It took a second for Dean to tear his eyes away from the TV screen.

"Huh? Is what bad?" Dean asked cluelessly.

"The cuts you made because of me..." Cas asked in barely a whisper. "They they bad?"

"The cuts?" Dean's scoff was followed by a lazy shrug. Apparently this was a fucking joke to him. "Not really."

"Can I see?" Cas asked, his voice quavering.

Dean froze and slowly turned his head toward Castiel. He swallowed nervously, his eyes wide in fear. "Yeah, I guess." He sighed pulling this hoodie and t-shirt off in one fluid motion.

Castiel's attention was immediately focused on the thick red lines starting from the top of his bicep to a few inches above his elbow.

Castiel gently swiping his thumb over the cuts and shook his head. "Is this your favorite place to cut?" He asked as his lips turned down into a frown.

Dean shook his head. "No, I cut there so you can't see them...and so I can still wear t-shirts. My favorite place to cut is forearms and wrists but I can cut almost anywhere."

Castiel felt tears form in the corners of his eyes. "Dean..." He started as he ran his fingers through the back of his head. "You shouldn't have a favorite cutting spot. That's horrible."

"I don't want to make you mad, so I hide them from you." Dean admitted.

"And I don't like the thought of you cutting because of me, i'm not supposed to be the cause of your pain." He paused for a beat, then sighed in frustration. "Why would you do that?" He hissed quietly.

"You were pissing me off!" Dean whispered angrily through a clenched jaw as he turned away from Cas.

Cas pulled him close and peppered kisses along his shoulder. "Don't fucking do that, Dean. I don't like the thought of you cutting because of me. It's ridiculous. I don't want to cause you any pain. If I see this again...I'm so fucking gone." He said with a painful laugh as he shook his head. "I'm so fucking done." He almost had to look away because the look on Dean's face was just enough to break his heart. He was terrified and wide eyed.

"Don't leave, Cas..." Dean begged as he gripped the fabric of Castiel's cotton shirt. "It won't happen again. I promise."

Castiel just wanted to scare him a little. He wasn't gonna leave, he wanted to help Dean get better. He left once before, a few months back and scared him.

* * *

They were laying in bed, nothing but the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock that sat on Dean's nightstand illuminated the dark room. Cas was fast asleep with his face smashed against Dean's side.

Dean lay wide awake on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. The sound of Castiel's slow, steady breathing filled the room.

He had to stop. If not for himself, then for Castiel.

_I can't let him down again. I don't want him to leave. He probably thinks he sounds like a broken record, he's probably getting tired of all the fighting. I don't want to put him through that again and he was right, I shouldn't have cut because of him. I should just take my medicine and listen. He deserves so much better than this._

He took a deep breath and felt air fill his lungs, then looked down at Cas. He watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. He focused his gaze back to the ceiling and ran a hand over his face exhaling deeply.

**  
** _Maybe I should leave..._


End file.
